


Staying Afloat

by UnUnpredictableMe (DraejonSoul)



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode s0408, garcy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23795290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraejonSoul/pseuds/UnUnpredictableMe
Summary: Filler scene from the S4x08 ep, Unsinkable, on Tumblr
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Staying Afloat

**Author's Note:**

> We've all fantasized (and written) how that Titanic episode would have gone down. This is a filler scene between the Timeless S4 ep#8, ["Unsinkable"](https://www.dropbox.com/s/sn6npr092ma833t/Unsinkable.pdf?dl=0) (a very delightful read!), and the next episode, "Aloha ‘Oe".
> 
> This is my very first ever (posted) Timeless fic, in drabble form! *gasp* It's unbeta-ed and written by a non-native English speaker, but I hope you still enjoy. ^^

The minute they landed in the present time, Lucy proposed calling Denise for guidance. There was no way they could easily explain how their group got various degrees of hypothermia in the middle of San Francisco's spring time. With profuse apologies and a promise to brief Denise on their last jump, Lucy and the rest of the team were bundled up and driven from MCI to the hospital Denise suggested.

Which was easier said than done: Garcia had been exposed to the icy waters far longer than any of them. And while he had tried his best not to be a literal burden to them, and since the adrenaline had worn off, Garcia couldn’t control cramped muscles and spasming limbs. So it took Wyatt, Rufus and their driver/escort to half-carry him to the SUV.

They were all kept overnight until their temperatures were deemed normal—except, again, for Garcia. The doctors worked tirelessly to raise his core temperature for hours until Garcia’s temperature became somewhat stable, but he was kept for ten days after developing pneumonia.

Lucy had hardly left his side the moment she recovered. She could not be deterred by her friends to take proper rest, who had pointed out that Garcia won’t be waking up very soon. Lucy had merely shaken her head obstinately at their pleas.

_I’m not taking my eyes off of you again_ , her mind had reasoned. She was being irrational, she knew this. And she had also known the paralyzing dread she felt on the _Carpathia_ when it dawned on her that they… _she_ had lost Garcia to the cold, unforgiving ocean.

Her eyes had prickled at the memory, her hand instinctively crawling across the blanket to seek Garcia’s limp hand, and squeezed it. He didn’t squeeze back, but he was warm; too warm, and still here. Alive. She’d take it.

And when Garcia had first opened his eyes, she was there. His clouded gaze had held questions there, questions she wasn’t sure she had answers for. 

“It will keep,” she remembered answering his unspoken question.

Of course, Lucy quickly volunteered to take Garcia home with her when the question of home care was brought up, when it was time to go home. She gave him a withering glare when Garcia politely declined her offer.

“Shut up and let people look after you for once,” she retorted when she got fed up hearing him decline her offer the third time.

She had relished his look of shocked silence.

“Yes, Lucy,” came his meek reply.

He still needed help getting settled in Lucy’s home, a pointed reminder to Garcia that he wouldn’t have been able to take care of himself just then.

With the mission on the Titanic put weeks behind them, Lucy felt the false sense of peace until the next jump.

Garcia has taken semi-permanent residence on her couch, where he was presently sprawled, an afghan thrown over him.

“So,” he drawled, as Lucy looked up from her book, curled up in the adjacent armchair. Their typical perches as of late.

“What now?” he murmured, shifting to get a better look at her.

She graced him with a little smile, closed her book, and sat in front of the couch. She brushed the errant locks from his forehead. His stormy green eyes were still hazy, whether from illness or uncertainty, or both. They closed at the touch of Lucy’s fingers on his still too-warm skin.

“I don’t know,” she admitted at length, letting the back of her fingers trail the side of his face, and watched him capture it with his hands and kissing her knuckles

“We’ll figure it out,” she assured him, sealing that guarantee with a kiss.


End file.
